


42 Years Later

by ChanseyDelighted89



Category: Martin (1977)
Genre: Other, house is abandoned cuz I doubt Christine would want it, this is years after the movie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-01
Updated: 2019-10-01
Packaged: 2020-11-08 15:20:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20837696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChanseyDelighted89/pseuds/ChanseyDelighted89
Summary: He had heard from his Mother about the house. It was sort of foggy and vague memories of it. Where the had been a young man living with his cousins. One who had been forced to believe that he was a vampire.





	42 Years Later

It was colder than he had remembered it being. Much smaller than Ash had remembered it being as well. The old house had fallen into disrepair decades ago. Former owner’s niece wanting nothing to do with it. As her and her uncle had fallen out with each other. Especially after the disappearance of the strange boy who lived with him. Whom he was struggling to remember the name of. As he never met the boy. Or even seen him as he disappeared years before he was born.

The police never found him. Nor did he remember hearing that they were ever called to the house. As his mother said that Cuda wouldn’t ever have called the cops. And that he was a creepy old man. Every time her Mother went to his shop, he gave her the creeps. Even at six years old she knew there was something unsettling about him.

That every time they passed his house on their way home, she felt a chill. But he felt no such thing. All he felt when he saw this house was curiousness. Carefully he glanced around to the neighbor’s homes. It appeared that no one was around. No cars had driven by when Ash had walked towards the strange little home. An idea suddenly cropped up in his head. His feet quickly moving him towards the house. Opening the fence as carefully and quietly as humanly possible. Feeling grateful that it had made no noise. Carefully he shut it behind him as he chewed his bottom lip.

Before he headed towards the home, he noted a little garden. One that clearly had seen better days. As it was full of overgrown grass and weeds. There was also a strange wooden stick planted in it. Something that he found strange but put those thoughts aside. He hurriedly walked up the sidewalk and towards the house.

Testing the knob to see if it was locked or not. Surprised to find the door was easy to open. But not surprised to see how dusty it was inside. How strange the place smelled. His nose wrinkled in disgust as he shut the door behind him. There were several religious items all over the place. Some pictures of the family that he had. Ash recognized the woman in them almost immediately. Christine something. She had died sometime in his childhood. From what he couldn’t entirely remember. Nor did he want to think of. So he put those thoughts aside as he walked through the living room. Noting the weird looking T.V in the room. How the couch looked like it’d seen better days. Along with the amount of crosses on the wall. Which felt excessive to him.

Even churches he’d been in didn’t have this many crosses. Taking a mental note of this weirdness, he headed into the kitchen. Just as dusty as the living room was. The floor was an ugly color and so was the wall. Colors that probably were considered trendy in the 70′s. His eyes scanned the cupboards, stove, and fridge. Which looked interesting to him, but he didn’t dare open the thing. Fearing that there was old spoiled food inside. And the stench in the kitchen was bad enough as is. He decided to go upstairs to check it out. Being careful of the stairs themselves.

Part of him was worried he’d fall through. It was a miracle he didn’t when he made it to the second floor. Looking around, he headed towards the nearest room. One he assumed had been the missing boy’s. As it didn’t look like it ever belonged to an old man. Ash ducked under a strange bell that was on the door. Walked over to a dresser looking around it for anything odd. Then checked out the clothes inside the top drawer. They looked like normal 70′s clothes. Well, as normal as they possibly could be. Especially after being in the dresser for so long. He shut the drawers before moving to the bed. Noting that it was strangely stripped of bed sheets. Dusty. And had what looked like a weird brown stain in the middle of it. There was something strange about it. Almost _as if it were...as if it were..._**no**, it couldn’t have been a blood stain. Why would there be a blood stain in the middle of this bed? Was this some weird thing that Cuda had done?

Ash tried to ignore it as he walked out of the room. Thoughts racing through his mind as he tried to understand. What in the Hell did that mean? At first he thought maybe the person had a nose bleed. But that didn't make sense. Who would leave a blood puddle that big from a nose bleed? Then not seemingly clean it up? Or get rid of the bed? No one in their right mind would leave something like that in a place like this. Then again, his Mother said that Cuda was weird. Maybe it was his bed. And he kept the blood as some weird religious thing? Even that seemed like a weak reason in his mind. There was no way that old man could've survived that much of a blood loss.

Nobody could had. There was no possible way that someone could've survived that._ No humanly possible_ _way..._a thought dawned on him. What if that missing boy didn't just run off like Christine thought? What if Cuda had killed him? But that didn't make sense. That old man was so weak. How in the world could he had possibly done him in? Unless he was asleep _fir-_his blood ran cold. And he realized just what exactly that old man had done. Or had an idea of what he had done. Cuda had stabbed the poor boy in his bed. For whatever reason he could come up with.

Christine told his Mother that Cuda believed he was a vampire. That the boy was over eighty-four years old. And that he believed it so much the boy believed it too. The boy, oh if he only could remember his name. What was that poor boy's name? It was right on the tip of his tongue. Ash sat on the top of the steps. Staring over at the bedroom he just came out of. And after a moment of thought, it hit him.

Martin. That boy's name was Martin. Christine said he'd been around sixteen or so. From what his Mother said she was told. And from her own vague memories of the boy. Who she barely saw thanks to her family being too creeped out by him.

This poor kid had been killed in his house. He assumed that. As how else had he never been found afterward? Wouldn't he want Christine to know that he was alive? Besides where would his body be? That old man was too odd to easily have hidden the body. Ash's heart beat began to slow as he realized how silly he was being. How he was letting his imagination get the better of him. There had been no murder of that weird boy. He probably ran off. Not contacting Christine cuz he didn't have her phone number. Or any way of contacting her. And was probably living in a retirement home somewhere. Being a weird old man who believed himself to be a vampire.

When he finally calmed himself, he headed down the stairs. Walked out of the house and towards the gate. That was until the strange looking garden caught his eye. Stopping him in his tracks. The old garden full of overgrown grass. Weeds. And that strange wooden stick. For some strange reason, he felt an urge to go over to the garden. One that was too hard to fight. Soon he found himself walking over to the garden. Stopping in front of it and dropping to his knees. He noticed the rusty trowel laying against the fence. Snatched it up then immediately started digging.

For what, he wasn't entirely sure. All he was sure of is that he had to keep digging. And after twenty minutes or so, he struck something solid. More solid than what he would expect in a garden. Pushing aside the dirt, he noticed a dirty sheet. With a weird gross brown stain. Like the one on the mattress. There was something sticking out of the sheets. It looked like a wooden pole. _**A stake.**_

Carefully pulling back the sheets, he was hit with a horrible smell. Of decay and something he couldn't identify. His hand immediately going over his mouth. Eyes widening as he stared into the skull of the missing teenager. The boy's jaw open in a quiet scream. Immediately he scooted away from his findings. Dropping the trowel as he struggled to get out his phone. Once he finally got it out, he started dialing nine one one. Stomach twisting in knots as he stared at the make-shift grave.


End file.
